


It Only Took Three Months! (Six Years and Three Months)

by hereticalvision



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Friendship, faking orgasm in public, ridiculous failure in communication, sex always gets in the way, tag-happy author, will they won't they
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereticalvision/pseuds/hereticalvision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We can't be friends," Arthur said, licking his lips, watching Merlin watch him do it.  "The sex thing will always get in the way."</p><p>When Arthur met Merlin: six years, three months, a long drive, a phobia of commitment, a car named the Great Dragon and a friendship-ruining one night stand - or was it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: this work is unfinished and I'm not sure when I will be able to update it. Only fair to warn you.

**Stockbridge, Edinburgh, August 2006**

"God's teeth," the posh prat said, a look of horror on his face. "What's that?"

 _That_ was Merlin's car. He'd bought it for thirty euros during his Erasmus exchange in Spain, and spent two years and countless hours with Will turning it into something slightly less death-trap like. He loved it. It had a name. "That's The Great Dragon," he said.

This did nothing to alter the expression on the bloke's face. "You can't seriously expect me to get into _that_."

Merlin had, rather. He'd put up a sign in the student union offering a lift to anyone wanting to head down to London in exchange for petrol money. He'd only had one reply, via text, so he hadn't realised that the man in question was a) posher than Waterford crystal and b) drop-dead blow-your-mind gorgeous.

Of course he was a prat. God just wasn't that kind.

"That's my car," Merlin said flatly. "You're sort of going to have to get into it if you expect me to drive you anywhere."

"It's tiny! I'll never fit in it!"

"We've managed four," Merlin said. Admittedly it had been once, uncomfortable, and out of sheer necessity, but it had happened.

"That car looks as though the engine might fall out at any second - there is no way I trust it to get me all the way to London. Why couldn't you have something decent?"

Merlin's jaw tightened. "We can't all afford Jaguars, you know."

"That could not be clearer," the prat said in a snit.

"So tell me, because I'm curious," Merlin said, seething, "if you're so terribly rich and important, why did you call me to arrange this lift?"

Prat shook himself irritably. "Can't we just…"

"No, I mean it," Merlin snarled. "Why exactly are you here?"

Prat didn't look like he wanted to answer that, but when Merlin gave no sign of moving or letting the subject drop, he finally huffed, "There were no train tickets left."

Merlin smiled, not very nicely. "Of course there weren't. After all, it probably didn't even occur to you to buy one until you wanted to leave."

"The train's never been full before!"

"The Festival just ended," Merlin pointed out. "The city's full of tourists who want to get home. Of course the trains are full."

"They never were before," Prat repeated sulkily.

"Other people exist, you know!" Merlin snapped, losing patience. "God in heaven, why didn't you just rent a car of your own? It would cost less than that watch you're wearing!"

Prat looked shifty for a second.

Merlin nodded to himself. "You don't know how to drive."

"Now look," Prat began, but Merlin had had enough.

"What's your name?"

"Arthur," Prat said, wrong-footed.

"Right. Well, you know what, Arthur? I'm going to London. In my car, that I know how to drive. And you can get in and split the petrol money with me, like you said you would, or you can stay here. Now are you getting in the car or not?"

Arthur glared at Merlin fit to incinerate him, and just as Merlin was beginning to worry that he was going to end up with no one to help him pay for the petrol after all, Arthur finally got in the car.

It was a seven hour drive to London, Merlin reflected before he got into the car. Seven long, long hours.

 

**Edinburgh-London Drive August 2006 Hour One (A702)**

Arthur had been sulking for the better part of half an hour. Merlin relished the quiet as he navigated out of Edinburgh, but didn't really want to spend the whole journey in silence.

"So," Merlin began, "you've finished your degree?"

Arthur looked for a moment as though he wouldn't answer, but apparently good manners had been drilled into him at some point in his life. "Yes," he said sulkily. "Economics."

"Of course," Merlin said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, and I suppose you studied being a hippie?"

"Social Policy," Merlin snapped back.

"Ah, so you're planning on working for a council somewhere? Trying to what, improve the habitat of the lesser spotted chav?"

"Better than selling out to the corporations the way you're going to!" Merlin snapped. "Seriously, do you know how much damage they do to the world?"

Arthur groaned as Merlin began to rant.

 

**Paddington Station, May 2008**

"Yes, I know. Will, I know," Merlin said into his phone. "No, I'm heading for the train now so I'll be there in a couple of hours. I love you too - see you then!"

Merlin hung up as he checked his watch. "Bollocks!" He was late for the Camelot train and while they were fairly regular, the connecting trains to Ealdor were not.

The net result was that he jumped onto the train just as the doors were closing, and was so grateful to find a seat that he didn't bother to see who he was sitting next to.

"I know those ears," a posh voice said.

Merlin stilled, telling himself that it couldn't be - but it was, of course. That was the way his day was going.

Arthur Pendragon was just as gorgeous at twenty-four as he had been at twenty-two. And, by the sound of his opening line, just as much of a prat.

"Hello," Merlin said weakly.

Arthur nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "I have to say, you're wearing that suit fairly well for someone who spent an hour telling me about how corporations bleed the life right out of us."

"Well," Merlin said, "sometimes you have to disguise yourself in order to be taken seriously."

"Mm, but you seem more like a sheep in wolf's clothing than anything else."

Merlin took a deep breath. "My mum likes it, all right?"

Arthur's head tipped back. Merlin thought he was going to laugh and he did, but not in the full-bodied derisive way Merlin had expected. At most this was a self-deprecating chuckle. "Well, we do a lot of things to please our parents."

Merlin longed to reach for his book and shut Arthur out, but couldn't quite bring himself to be that rude. It's just two hours, he told himself.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Will, reminding him to swipe some of his mother's baking if the opportunity arose. Merlin smiled.

"Boyfriend, is it?" Arthur asked.

Merlin gritted his teeth. "Yes."

"New or old?"

"Same one," Merlin said with a hint of superiority.

"After all these years?" Arthur looked mildly impressed. "Not bad. He's not going with you to visit?"

"Not this time," Merlin said, "but my Mum does like him a lot."

"Good for you," Arthur said, seeming to mean it. "It's lucky when that happens. My father doesn't really approve of my fiancée and it makes things a little awkward."

"You're getting married?" Merlin said, disbelief creeping into his voice. " _You_ are?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "And why exactly is that so ridiculous?"

"It's just…" Merlin didn't quite know how to phrase it. It's just that I've thought you were a swaggering playboy all this time and now you've gone and shown me that there's more to you? He shrugged; why worry about being rude to this guy now? "It's just that you were so adamant about not 'being tamed'."

Arthur laughed. "I was, wasn't I? You'd be amazed what falling madly in love can do for you."

Merlin shook his head. "So you've finally committed to another person."

"Monogamy," Arthur said, a slightly startled look on his own face. "I never thought it would appeal, you know. But Gwen's amazing – just so kind, and caring. And she never lets me get away with anything."

"Sounds like she's good for you," Merlin acknowledged. Part of him was desperately curious about this woman who had apparently rendered Arthur Pendragon capable of behaving like an adult while part of him quietly mourned the loss to the boys-who-like-boys community.

Arthur looked at Merlin speculatively. "Of course, I'm sure a quick grope in the loos wouldn't count if you're up for it."

Merlin's jaw dropped.

Arthur burst out laughing. "Your face!" He kept laughing to himself while Merlin's face and ears burned.

Merlin was 90% sure he'd meant it.

Arthur slung a companionable arm over Merlin's shoulders. "You know, after a while you just get tired of it all. Picking up women in bars, getting blowjobs from twinks in grimy clubs," Merlin winced at the woman sitting across the aisle, whose gaze had jerked towards them at this last, "a veritable sexual buffet where sleeping alone is a positive bonus. But then you realise you've got no one to talk to."

"Sounds sad," Merlin said, allowing himself a moment to feel superior.

"Oh, no it's fantastic," Arthur said, grinning. "You can just get enough of it, that's all."

 

At Camelot, Merlin stepped on to the platform feeling as though he'd been holding his breath for the entire duration of the journey.

"Want to grab a drink?" Arthur offered.

"I have a connecting train," Merlin said in lieu of _hell, no._

"Shame," Arthur said, shrugging. "Oh well, maybe catch you in another two years." Then he was gone as easily as the first time and Merlin had to force himself to turn away.

 

**Edinburgh-London Drive August 2006 Hour Two (A74)**

Presumably to block out Merlin's fury, Arthur had turned on the car radio. It was tuned to Radio 2 and Arthur had muttered something about it being 'Dad music' to which Merlin had informed him that it was the only station the radio could receive. Not true in the slightest, but Merlin was damned if he was listening to Classic FM because of the prat's snobbery, or worse Radio 1 because he fancied himself a club boy.

"So, at the risk of starting another fight," Merlin said, "what are you going to do in London when you get there?"

"I'm going to stay with my step-sister."

"Oh, you have a sister? That's nice."

"Step-sister," Arthur said with the tone of one correcting through long habit, "and she's a harpy."

"O-kay then," Merlin muttered.

"Father wants me to meet him at the town house, but he won't be there for another week so I thought I'd go down a few days early."

"But not to spend time with your sister."

"No. Thought I'd hit the clubs."

Merlin winced at the thought of how much the clubs in central London must charge. That was probably no problem at all to a man like Arthur. He could probably rent the VIP rooms if he wanted.

"Got some friends down there?"

"A few," he said. "Some lads I was at school with. Some of the rugby team from uni. What about you?" he said abruptly, interrogating rather than politely continuing the conversation.

"Oh, I've got an internship," Merlin said cheerfully. "Will's already there and he's found us a flat."

"And Will is…?"

"My boyfriend," Merlin said, slanting a challenge over to Arthur with his eyes. "Been together since school."

"He went ahead from Edinburgh?"

"Hm? Oh – no, he's been living in London for about a year."

Arthur laughed. "So you're telling me that you're about to move in with your long-distance boyfriend? Good fucking luck with that."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Merlin snapped.

"Means what it sounds like it means," Arthur said flatly. "Watch the road."

 

**Bloomsbury, October 2011**

"I'm just saying, Merlin, that it's about time to think about it," Freya said, dark eyes soft and worried. She placed the book she'd been looking at back on the shelf.

This was one of Merlin's favourite second-hand bookshops but Freya was managing to undermine its usual calming effect on him. "I'm not ready yet, Freya," he said softly, knowing she was trying to help. "I just…"

"I know Will was a huge part of your life for a really long time, but…" Her voice trailed off. "Easier said than done, I know. But you have to go on with your life."

Merlin nodded. "You're right."

"I am?"

"It's easier said than done." Merlin reached out his left hand, bracing himself against the bookcase.

"Well," Freya said, looking around. "Oh, someone's staring at you."

"Hm? Where?" Merlin looked up and his eyes met Arthur Pendragon's.

It had been a few years, but Arthur's face was just the same. He seemed a little more sombre but was as well-dressed as ever. Who else would wear bespoke to look at second-hand books on a Sunday?

"He's frighteningly gorgeous," Freya added in an undertone.

"I know him," Merlin said.

"What?" Freya gaped.

"I know him. He's a prat."

"I…" Freya began, but then Arthur had crossed the distance between them and whatever she was going to say disappeared into a squeak and she ducked behind Merlin.

"Merlin," Arthur said, no hint of mockery in his voice for once.

"Arthur," Merlin replied. "I thought it was you. This is Freya…" he said, turning to see Freya ducking out the shop's front door.

"That was Freya," Arthur deadpanned.

"Yeah," Merlin said, smiling ruefully. Arthur still had the lovely crooked teeth, the strong shoulders – everything about him made Merlin feel scruffy and insignificant. "Anyway, how are you? How's married life?"

"We're not together anymore," Arthur said, shrugging. "She, er, well, she wants a divorce."

"Oh," Merlin said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"And you?" Arthur asked abruptly. "Still with your sweetheart from back home after all these years?"

Merlin's lips tightened, the thought of Will still a sword to the heart. "He died," Merlin said baldly.

 

***

 

The pub was rather pretentiously called Bar Ciao and had the deep leather sofas Merlin associated with coffee shops rather than alcohol.

Merlin sipped the beer Arthur had bought him. "There's not a whole lot to say," he said. "Will was trying to help a woman who was being attacked and he got stabbed. The doctors told him he was really lucky – it was only a small wound, didn't hit anything important. He was adamant that he was fine, so the hospital let him go. And then he died of septicaemia."

"I'm sorry," Arthur said quietly.

Merlin shrugged though even the motion pained him. "Six months. Maybe I should be moving on by now. But, you know, Will and I had been together for years."

"I know," Arthur said. "I know. I can't even imagine."

Merlin put his beer down. "Well." It was supposed to be getting easier, but Merlin hadn't noticed if it was. Will's absence was still a constant ache. His picture was still on Merlin's phone, his number in the contacts as though he might be back any day and Merlin would just be able to call him and talk to him again.

He'd never mentioned Arthur to Will. He wondered why.

"Freya was a friend of both of ours, from back home," Merlin went on. "She's my flatmate now. Didn't think I should be on my own. Besides, it's not like making rent in London is easy."

"Maybe not for you," Arthur muttered and Merlin snorted.

"Yeah, well. What about you?" Merlin asked. "What's your tale of woe?"

Arthur looked towards the floor. "She fell in love with someone else."

"Ah," Merlin said, grimacing in sympathy.

Arthur shrugged the same way Merlin had, a desperate attempt to push the pain away, as though the movement of the shoulders could ward it off. "I was working all the time, putting in all the hours at Father's firm. Gwen was lonely. She never wanted to live in London. So I encouraged her to find things to do – she wasn't working. Lost her job when the recession hit."

"Yeah, Will too," Merlin muttered.

"Right," Arthur went on, drinking a huge gulp of beer down to fortify himself. "So she started volunteering at a homeless shelter. Met this guy, Lance, and waxed lyrical about how lovely he was, said I just had to meet him. So I did and he became a friend."

"Ouch," Merlin said. "I mean… That's awful."

Arthur snorted. "When they told me… Gwen was sobbing her heart out. Said she swore they hadn't done anything but they were in love and they couldn't pretend any longer."

The thought of such a scene made something squirm in Merlin's belly; he ignored it with another swallow of his beer.

"It's ironic," Arthur said, staring at his beer. "I never would have thought that someone fucking around would bother me."

"She was your wife," Merlin said simply.

"Yep," Arthur said before he took another swallow. "I should have known that one day she'd rip my heart out. Women always do."

"Men, too," Merlin said before he could stop himself.

Arthur smiled. "Oh, Merlin. Why didn't we ever fool around?"

"Will," Merlin said, "and someone called Sophia if I recall correctly."

"Right," Arthur said, "those were the excuses. That, and you were something of an idiot."

"Me?" Merlin couldn't believe the nerve. "I just didn't want to have sex with you, and you had to write it off as a character flaw instead of facing the fact it might have had something to do with you."

Arthur shifted in his chair. "Is there a limit to how long after the fact a gentleman can apologise?"

Merlin smiled. "Five years?"

They both looked away.

The two men finished the rest of their respective drinks in relative silence. Neither was in a hurry, but eventually it was time to go.

"Here's my card," Arthur said as they got up to leave, pressing it into Merlin's hand. "We should hang out."

"Did you just say 'hang out'?"

Arthur grimaced. "It doesn't seem particularly likely, does it? Look, just… take the card. I could use another friend."

Merlin looked into Arthur's eyes, startled, wondering if he'd remembered what he'd once said about the idea of their being friends.

"All right," he said at last.

Arthur nodded. "I'll see you later then.

"Later," Merlin agreed, turning away from Arthur to head for the tube station.

"Oh, and Merlin?" Arthur called.

"Mm?"

Lips moved over crooked teeth. "You wanted to have sex with me a little."


	2. Chapter 2

Edinburgh-London Drive August 2006 Hour Three (M6)

"How many people have you had sex with?" Arthur asked abruptly.

"I'm not telling you that!"

"All right, don't," Arthur said, shrugging. "Bet you it's less than five."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably; it was two. "Why, how many people have you slept with?"

Arthur seemed to think about it for a moment. "I don't know."

Merlin looked at him aghast. "You don't _know_?"

"Not exactly, no. Maybe twenty?" Arthur smiled at Merlin insolently.

"And, what, that somehow makes you better than me?"

Arthur smirked. "Better able to compare, certainly."

"And how many of those people did you recognise in the morning?"

"Not really the point, Merlin," Arthur said.

"Maybe it is for some people," Merlin snapped.

"Ah, so for you it's only been this Will, then?"

Merlin made a snarling sound in his throat. "No, not just Will, since you ask, but Will's the one I wanted to stick around afterwards. So yeah, we've been long distance for a year but we were together for two before that. And you're hardly in a position to lecture anyone about making a relationship work."

Arthur shrugged. "Never tried. Seen plenty fail, though."

"Helped them along?"

"Not on purpose," Arthur said, unabashed, "but if the lady knows what she wants then who am I to refuse?"

"Tough to be so in demand," Merlin snarked.

"Mm," Arthur said, making the syllable obscene as he tipped his head back to expose his long throat.

Usually a person behaving like this would have stopped Merlin finding him attractive within a matter of minutes, but somehow Arthur's prattishness just wasn't having that effect on him at all. In fact, the more infuriating things he said, the more Merlin wanted to pull the car over and shut him up with a tongue in his mouth.

 

British Museum, February 2012

"Treasures from Medieval York?" Arthur said, sighing. "I sort of hoped that getting divorced would mean I wouldn't get dragged to these kinds of things anymore."

"Considering all your wealth and your extremely expensive education, you really are remarkably uncultured," Merlin scolded. "What's a nicer way to spend an afternoon than in a museum?"

"I don't know, how about playing some footie in the park?"

"It’s February." Merlin sighed. "I’ll never understand your obsession with sport, but I'm sure you could join a team. I could come here by myself, I'd be ok."

"No fair using guilt, Merlin. You know I can't stand it when you talk about being alone." Arthur slung a companionable arm around Merlin's shoulder, enveloping him in clean, masculine scent. Merlin inhaled deeply, enjoying the moment for just a second before Will's face flashed before him and guilt crept in.

"I'm better off," Merlin said, pulling away from Arthur's embrace. "I don't… I'm still not ready."

"Fair enough," Arthur said, his tone conveying vague regret. "I think I am, though."

"What, ready to date?" Merlin hadn't expected that somehow.

"Yeah," he said. "Or at least get laid. You know I haven't seen a woman naked since Gwen left me? Or a man, come to that. Maybe I should get myself some cock."

An older couple glared sidelong at the two of them; Merlin blushed and slipped his hand into the crook of Arthur's elbow, drawing him away. "Not that I mind chatting about cock," he said in a whisper, "but let's try and not scandalise the old dears, shall we?"

"They've got grandkids, they know how sex works," said Arthur unrepentantly. "And I suppose there's one good thing about you bringing me here," he said, eyeing a pretty young blonde wearing a short skirt and a bored expression. Merlin's gaze went from her to the man she was with, thirty years older than her or more.

"Think you might be too young for her, mate," said Merlin.

"That's her father," Arthur said confidently. "Look at the way he's acting with her."

"If you say so," Merlin said with a shrug.

"I'm going to go ask her what she thinks of the exhibition," Arthur said, checking his reflection in the cabinet case. Disbelief made Merlin's lip curl – dammit, why was Arthur such a prat? He grinned at Merlin, all crooked teeth and soft lips. "Wish me luck," he said with a wink and then he was crossing the room to talk to the blonde girl.

Merlin bit his lip as he watched Arthur sidle over to the lovely blonde beauty, who smiled up at him at once.

"Bugger," he said, turning away.

 

The next Sunday, Merlin had nothing to do. Freya had gone to visit her family and so he had the flat to himself. His plan was simple: stay in bed late, sulk a little at having been abandoned by his friend and enjoy some denial over the fact that it didn't seem to matter what Arthur did, Merlin still fancied the pants off him.

There was a terrible war in Merlin's gut between his lingering love for Will and the sharp bite of lust he felt whenever Arthur looked at him in just that certain way. Not that it mattered, really; other than causing Merlin a world of confusion and guilt, it was quite clear that Merlin's feelings were not mutual which was probably just as well – he had no idea how he'd handle it if they were.

Merlin rolled over in bed and tried to ignore the sting of rejection he still felt from watching Arthur fall all over that silly blonde girl. He'd looked at her through his eyelashes, pressed his lips to her knuckles and Merlin had cursed him, desperately wishing he knew what to do when Arthur looked at him like that.

Not that it would do any good if he did, Merlin acknowledged. It wouldn't last. Never did with Arthur. Gwen had been the risk he'd chosen to take with his heart and now he was back to his old man-whore ways. But what might it be like to be the focus of that passion for one night? 

Merlin's eyes slid closed as he imagined Arthur sliding his fingers into Merlin's dark hair, tugging it as they kissed, Arthur's tongue sliding over Merlin's lips, his body pressed against Merlin's own, one of his muscular thighs slipping between Merlin's legs…

The buzzer halted Merlin's hand on its journey down his body. Merlin cursed, clenching his fist at his hip.

The buzzer went again, then his phone started to vibrate.

Merlin closed his eyes against the world for just a moment, then stood, pulling a pair of shorts on as he went.

Phone first. It had been on silent since the night before, and the call he'd just missed from Arthur had been the third that morning.

The buzzer went again: Merlin would have put money on it being Arthur and sure enough, "Thank God, you're there!" came Arthur's voice. "You've got to let me in, the woman is crazy!"

Merlin slumped against the wall. And this was the guy he thought about when he touched himself? He needed his head examined.

"All right, all right," Merlin said, pressing the door release button. He wandered back through the flat, pulling a shirt about his shoulders. He thought about jeans, but then Arthur was knocking on the door and Merlin figured fuck it, his half-erection had gone down. If Arthur was going to barge in he could just deal with finding Merlin dishevelled.

Rather insultingly, Arthur didn't even seem to notice. "Merlin," he said as he burst in. "Merlin, you've got to help me!"

Merlin rubbed at his head. "Arthur, whatever it is, I need a cuppa before I can handle it." He wandered into the kitchen, Arthur hard on his heels.

"Merlin, this is serious. Vivian is turning into a nightmare."

Ah, yes. Vivian. Vivian whom Arthur had charmed at the museum, taken out that very night and spent the past week shagging. Merlin turned the kitchen tap on with a little too much force, nearly sending water spraying all over the sink.

"How so?" he asked as he plugged the kettle back in and set it to boil.

Arthur held out his phone; Merlin took it wordlessly.

His inbox was open and there was a string of texts from Vivian, demanding to know where he was, when he was coming to see her, why he hadn't replied to her calls and a hundred other questions indicating that Vivian was a full-blown psycho. Interspersed with those were a constant thread of criticism aimed at Arthur's clothes, friends, décor choices and his training regimen.

Merlin felt his lips twitch. "Bloody hell, Arthur," he said. "She may be beautiful but she's incredibly rude."

"I know," Arthur hissed. "The date was awful, all she did was bitch about the restaurant I'd taken her to and what I was wearing. My God, I think I only had sex with her to shut her up."

The kettle had boiled; Merlin used the opportunity of sorting out the tea to turn his back to Arthur, hiding both the flash of hurt and the laughter he couldn't quite resist. "So the lack of contact wasn't because you were shagging her into oblivion?"

Merlin wasn't looking but he just _knew_ that Arthur was squirming. He turned back, holding out a mug of tea and as he met Arthur's gaze, Arthur blurted out, "Look, angry sex can be really hot, right?"

"And now she thinks…" Merlin checked Arthur's phone again. "That you are her destiny. 'So perfectly formed it is as if you have been sculpted by the gods themselves' – blimey, she's good for your ego. Though she follows it up with a crack about how your clothes should be tighter to show off your…"

"Never mind that," Arthur snapped, snatching his phone back.

"And what was that bit about chicken?" Merlin went on, still grinning.

On cue, Arthur's phone began to ring. Arthur's mouth went pinched. "She's turned up at the flat four times in the last two days," he said.

Merlin sighed; time to stop teasing and try to help. "So what, did you tell her you loved her?"

"No," Arthur said. "No, but I talked to her about Gwen and I think she may have thought I was ready to be serious. And Merlin," Arthur said, looking up with blue eyes blazing hurt and sincerity, "she's awful."

"So we need a plan to get rid of her," Merlin said. "Tell you what, why don't I confront her, be your jealous boyfriend. She'll rage at you for a while, but she'll stop calling eventually. Just promise me you'll take care of the funeral costs, if she kills me."

All the tension seemed to leave Arthur's body at once. "Thank you, Merlin," he said sincerely. "But I can handle it. It shouldn't be your responsibility to get me out of messes I've made myself."

Every once in a while, Merlin was reminded that Arthur was more than just the prat he seemed to be. "Fair enough," he said, pulling the milk out of the fridge and pouring some into his tea. "You just want to hide out here a bit, gather your reserves?"

Arthur shot him a grateful look. "Yes, please," he said, sipping his tea.

"All right," Merlin said. "I'm going to get some clothes on. Then we can watch Doctor Who, how does that sound?"

"David Tennant?" Arthur asked with puppy dog eyes.

Merlin shook his head ruefully. "Fine, you big baby, if it'll make you feel better." He patted Arthur on the shoulder a little awkwardly and made to walk past him.

"I told her, you know, when she said she was leaving," Arthur said suddenly. "Gwen, I mean. I said, 'I've never loved anyone else.' I didn't know what love was, before Gwen. And now…" He clenched his fist and stared into his tea mug.

"What did she say?" Merlin asked softly.

Arthur's mouth twisted into a crooked, unhappy shape. "She said, 'But one day you will'."

 

Edinburgh-London Drive August 2006 Hour Four (M6)

"So, all these women you've slept with," Merlin said.

"I didn't say they were all women," Arthur said. "Men are easier, actually. Both to pull and to get rid of. Much less emotional moping."

Merlin did a double-take. "So you'll basically sleep with anyone?"

"Oh, that's nice," Arthur said haughtily. "Bisexual, so he must have no standards."

"I didn't say bisexuals had no standards, I'm just wondering about yours," Merlin replied tartly. "Do you actually date these people or are you just a one-night-stand merchant?"

"Date some of them, not others," Arthur said. "It's better if you can get into a relationship with some nice, basic, few-strings type rules. Saves time and effort. Fuck buddies tend to cling less than one night stands, if you can believe it. The number of lies I've had to tell to get out of people's beds in the morning." He shook his head. "Mug's game. Got a girlfriend now actually."

"What's her name?" Merlin asked.

"Sophia," Arthur said near-reverently. "She's perfect. All long dark hair and beautiful eyes. And a wildcat in bed."

"I'm sure," Merlin said, checking the rear-view mirror and telling himself he was relieved.

"Before her, though, was this guy called Cenred. Let me tell you about him."

"I really don't need to hear about it," Merlin said.

"Oh, but you'll love it," Arthur went on, cheerfully cruel. "He was into leather."

 

Arthur's flat, Kensington, April 2012

"I don't see why you don't get involved with Arthur," Freya said as she delicately arranged broken meringue pieces in some glasses. "I mean, you spend all your time together, you have a key to his flat, as witnessed by our being here…"

"We're just friends," Merlin said, mashing strawberries viciously into a bowl.

"But you fancy him," Freya said.

"Do we still say 'fancy'? We're edging towards thirty, you know," Merlin teased.

"Stop deflecting," Freya said, using her best scolding tone which still wasn't particularly scary. "Wouldn't you want to be more if you could?"

"No," Merlin said at once. "No, he's…"

"He's what?"

Merlin blew air out of his cheeks. "A mess. He's screwed up on relationships."

"So are you," Freya pointed out, "I mean, in a different way."

"I hope in a different way – remember that Vivian thing?" Merlin shook his head. "And since then he hasn't even bothered to give them his number. I think at this point Arthur may have actually slept with half of London."

Freya raised an eyebrow. "Then why are we making a birthday cake for him?"

"Because," Merlin said, musing, "he's a sweet mess. When he's not being a prat."

"Hence we make sweet mess cake?" Freya said.

"Eton Mess, darling," Merlin drawled. "It should suit the posh sod just perfectly."

"Mm, well it was a good idea to make it here," Freya acknowledged. "Getting this stuff on the tube would have been a nightmare."

Merlin would have said something else then, but a key turned in the lock. Merlin and Freya exchanged a glance before Freya threw a dishtowel over the glasses and the two of them turned as Arthur stumbled into the flat.

"Merlin," he said, startled as he saw them. "And little Freya. What are you doing here?"

"We're making your birthday cake, remember?" Merlin said. "You knew we'd be here and you were supposed to be out until – Arthur, are you drunk?"

"Only a little," Arthur said, his mouth twisting into a poor attempt at a smile. "Just bumped into the old ball and chain and her brand new beau."

"Oh," Merlin said, throwing Freya a worried glance.

"I'll just call the others and tell them the plan's changed and it'll be the Rose and Crown at eight," Freya said brightly. "A call I will make outside. Yes."

"She's always been shit at subtle exits," Arthur said as Freya closed the door behind her. "And there's no need to make a fuss. Honestly, it was cathartic. I stared death in the face, I slayed the beast…"

"Slew," Merlin said without thinking.

"I slew the beast then, Merlin, what does it matter?"

"But it was a good thing?" Merlin said, testing.

"Absolutely," Arthur said. "Absofuckinglutely. Excuse me," he added, and then he raised the plastic bag in his right hand to his mouth and poured straight vodka down his throat.

"Oh shit," Merlin said and rushed towards him.

 

Arthur didn't speak for a while except to plead for his Grey Goose back and whine at Merlin for refusing. In the end, Merlin managed to empty the bottle into a flask while Arthur was in the bathroom and handed it back to him full of water instead.

It seemed to work: Arthur continued swigging from the vodka bottle, sobering up as he did so.

"It's eight o'clock," Merlin said at last. "Everyone will be at the pub soon."

"Yeah," Arthur said. "It'll be good to see Leon. I haven't seen him since I stopped playing rugby."

Merlin had met Leon before and liked him; he was a genuinely nice person, a steadying presence.

"Funny," Arthur went on bitterly. "I know that Leon lives in Kensington somewhere but I've never bumped into him anywhere in the city. But Gwen and Lance, they just wander right on in to Fortnum and Mason when they can't even afford to shop there."

"Arthur," Merlin said in dismay.

"No, no, it's fine," Arthur said blankly. "I always knew I was going to see them at some point. And I think I handled it well." He raised the bottle to his mouth again, though his hand trembled; Merlin glanced guiltily at the flask and wondered if he should just have allowed Arthur to drink it all away. "I wanted to kill him," he said blankly. "There they were together and she was so happy, smiling up at him, and I swear, Merlin, if I'd had some kind of weapon in my hand, I would have killed him."

Merlin swallowed.

"We were happy," Arthur said, his every word breaking Merlin's heart. "I know we were happy." Arthur wiped his face, shook his head. "Fuck it, anyway. Let's go to the pub."

"Are you sure you…" Merlin began, but Arthur was already up and heading for the bathroom.

"We're going," he said before he slammed the door behind him. "That vodka's shit, I think I'm sobering up."

 

It wasn't Arthur's finest hour. Freya must have warned at least Morgana and Leon because they kept throwing Merlin worried glances.

Leon had brought a girl with him, Elena. Merlin didn't think they were dating but Arthur hadn't even asked, just started monopolising her the moment she arrived. By the expression on her face, it seemed that she couldn't make up her mind whether she should be flattered or worried and had settled for humouring him.

"That's Arthur," Morgana said with a sigh. "He seems to be in a blonde phase. Someone as different from Gwen as he can find."

Merlin only nodded. He didn't know Morgana well; she was moderately terrifying, though she seemed to have taken to him well enough. Still, Merlin was fairly sure that she was perceptive enough that if he gave her the slightest clue she'd _know_ that he was in serious danger of falling like a ton of bricks for her brother. Step-brother.

"Oh, dear," Morgana sighed as Leon stood, apparently in response to an alarmed look from Elena.

Leon went over to where Arthur stood, propped up on the bar. Freya caught Elena's arm and pulled her to the side and Leon said something quiet to Arthur.

"Oh really?" Arthur snapped. "I'm making her uncomfortable? We were just talking, Elena, isn't that right?"

Elena made some quiet response, but the background noise of the pub was quieting; people were turning to stare.

Merlin swallowed. "I think I'm going to…"

"Good idea," Morgana replied at once.

Merlin crossed quickly to the bar just in time to catch Leon saying, "Just think you've had a little too much tonight."

Arthur laughed, a terrible, cracked sound. "Issat so?" he said, rather proving Leon's point. "Well at least I'm being honest. She's a very attractive woman, is Elena. Aren't you?"

"Er," Elena said. "I mean, I…"

"So I'm being open about my feelings," Arthur said, making a grand gesture which sprayed his vodka-coke about the room. "I think she's lovely, I'd like to take her home with me. What about you, Leon? You've been stuck on Morgana for how many years now?"

Merlin stilled, glancing quickly over to Leon who'd gone rigid. So it was true. He wondered how Morgana had taken that particular revelation but didn't dare look.

"And you keep it all inside." Arthur snorted. "Like Gwen. Kept everything inside until she left me."

It was a terrible moment. Leon's face was white as Arthur turned back to the bar.

Elena reached out to touch his arm. "Leon," she said quietly. "Will you walk me to the tube?"

Leon somehow rallied himself. "Of course," he said. He quickly picked up his coat and hers; he looked at Morgana who, Merlin could see now, looked a little stunned but no more than that. 

Leon offered Elena his arm and the two of them left.

"Don't go," Arthur cried, but Freya stepped in front of him. He scowled at her and opened his mouth, but Merlin was quicker.

"I think we should get you to bed, mate," he said.

"Don't want to," Arthur replied, petulant. "And I don't think…"

"Whatever you're about to say to Merlin, just stop," Morgana cut in. "You just molested a poor sweet girl and embarrassed Leon. Are you going for a hat trick tonight?"

Arthur hunched over, looking slightly ashamed despite himself.

Morgana shook her head. "I'm getting a taxi."

Freya looked over at Merlin who just shook his head; better by far that Freya leave him to look after Arthur. He'd see her at home.

Once it was just the two of them, Merlin sighed. "Arthur, that was cruel. Morgana was right."

"What, the thing with Leon? Why not say it?" Arthur said bitterly. "They might even be happy, but Leon's too scared to say anything to her. It's pathetic, people being too afraid to say how they feel."

"Maybe," Merlin said, "but it's not your place to get involved. What you said was over the line."

"Really?" Arthur sneered. "Because you, you stand too far behind the line. That's your problem. And I've been doing the same. I think it's my turn to say all the things I haven't been."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Merlin said, dreading the answer.

"You. Why is it that you haven’t even mentioned Will in the last six months?"

Merlin flinched. "I…"

"Don't you miss him?" Arthur demanded.

"Of course I do!" Merlin snapped back. "Of course I do but he's fucking dead, Arthur."

"Yeah, he's dead, and you just put all his pictures away and don't talk about him. Block it all out."

"Maybe I'm trying to move on," Merlin said.

Arthur laughed nastily. "Move on, Merlin? Really? Have you been on one date? Have you got yourself laid _once_?"

"What the hell will that prove?" Merlin shouted, and again he felt the eyes of everyone in the pub on him. "The love of my life died and you think I should fuck my way back to happiness? Because it's working so well for you? We're pathetic because we hide things – how about you, Arthur, wallowing and pretending you're fine? You got divorced." Merlin could feel his throat threatening to close as he tried to force out the words: "Will's dead." He swallowed hard, the words still so difficult to say. "I can't bump into him on the street because they put him in a box in the ground. I'm never going to see him again, ever, and you want me to feel sorry for _you_?" He was shaking by the end of it, the loss returning full force.

God, it was such a mess – Will was gone and Arthur was _hurting_ him and Merlin didn't know what to do about any of it except keep on going, hoping that one day he'd manage to see a picture of Will, or even think of him, without feeling like his stomach had turned to lead.

Arthur's face contorted as he took all of that in. Merlin couldn't look at him.

"I need another drink," Merlin said flatly and turned back to the bar.

"Merlin…" said Arthur, swallowing hard. "Merlin, can I say something?"

"You've said enough," Merlin snapped, ordering a beer by pointing to the tap. The barman looked at him with sympathy as he passed the pint over and Merlin took a long, soothing swallow at once.

A hand on his arm. Merlin forced himself not to flinch.

"What?" Merlin snapped.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, and he squeezed Merlin's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I'm a mess."

"Yeah," Merlin said, hating himself for how easily Arthur could make the tension seep away, hating Arthur for how easily Merlin would forgive him. "You are."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the encouraging comments :) Really appreciate you taking the time and it helps keep me writing!

Edinburgh-London Drive August 2005 Hour Five (M6)

"I'm going to pull in here," Merlin said as they passed a sign for services. "I need a break from driving."

"Good idea," Arthur said. "Might help that erection you've been trying to hide go down."

Merlin's jaw tightened. "You've been describing your sexual exploits in lurid detail. I'm only human."

"And too repressed to watch pornography. I quite understand."

The condescending tone made Merlin stop the car with a little more force than was necessary for the sheer pleasure of watching the car jerk forward. Merlin was up and out of the car in seconds.

"Going to go and rub one out?" Arthur's insolent voice called from behind him. The sound of the door closing, then Arthur's footstep hurrying to catch him.

"No! For God's sake."

"Well, look," Arthur went on as though this was the most entertaining thing imaginable, "if you're really hard up, I could…" Merlin barely noticed walking through the doors, he was so riled up. "Suck you off?" Arthur said and it was obviously a taunt.

Merlin rounded on him. "Look," he snapped, "we are not going to shag in the toilets at a service station!"

At that everyone in the coffee shop turned to look at them.

Arthur smirked. "Then I guess we'll just have some tea," he said, unembarrassed. "I'll get one for you. Do take care of that stiffie before we get back in the car, won't you?"

Merlin ground his teeth and seriously considered chucking the clotpole out of the car. Might have, too, except that when he came back Arthur had bought not only tea but sandwiches, Jaffa Cakes, Pringles, and a kinder egg.

 _Bastard makes it hard to hate him,_ Merlin thought in dismay.

 

**G-A-Y, August 2012**

"This is excruciating," Arthur shouted into Merlin's ear over Lady Gaga pounding at eighty decibels or so.

"It was your idea," Merlin yelled back. And it had been, too. Arthur had called him up and announced that he was off women, and wanted to hit the clubs with Merlin. Merlin suspected that it was his way of making up for his still-remembered remarks about Will on the one hand, and on the other part of his long-standing campaign to get Merlin shagged.

Merlin hadn't been to a gay club in almost two years, and hadn't ever been except with Will, when the point was to flail around wildly and laugh at all the posers. He'd never come with the express purpose of getting laid. He wasn't really sure it was him.

He'd prefaced the evening by saying, "Whatever happens out there tonight, please don't think any differently of me."

Now, Arthur was shouting in his ear over the music: "All these queens are making me feel very, very straight."

Merlin snorted. "And the pink cocktail in your hand?"

Arthur laughed and raised his glass in a mock-toast. "It's tasty. What's that got to do with being queer?"

Merlin laughed and sipping his own cocktail. The night was young and if nothing else, Merlin intended to dance.

The music had a hell of a beat and some woman was singing about being touched by a stranger, always screaming of danger. Merlin knocked back the rest of his cocktail and dragged Arthur out onto the floor.

Merlin lost himself in the music. He was a little drunk, but not quite drunk enough yet to quell the feeling of strangeness. Arthur being with him helped.

Arthur really couldn't dance and watching him try was making Merlin laugh.

"You're my best friend," Merlin felt compelled to tell him. "My best fucking friend."

"Shit, is it that part of the night already?" Arthur laughed. "Think we need some more drinks before you start talking like that."

 

It was after their sixth or seventh cocktail when Merlin caught the guy's eye. The guy in question had dark hair and was model gorgeous, but with a beard and clothing sense which made him just a little dangerous looking. He was sexy, Merlin thought. And after all, Arthur shouldn't be punished just because Merlin was half in love with him. "Come on, he's exactly like that Cenred guy you went on and on about," Merlin said, pushing Arthur forward gently, telling himself he didn't mind.

"Hello," the guy said, stepping round Arthur to reach for Merlin's hand. "I'm Gwaine."

Merlin looked from Gwaine to Arthur and back again. "Um. Hi. I'm sorry, I thought…"

"Yeah?" Gwaine said, smiling.

"I thought you were coming over to hit on my friend," Merlin said all in a rush.

Gwaine looked over his shoulder but Arthur had already found himself someone else to talk to, someone extremely tall with solid shoulders and a wide grin like all his Christmases had come at once. He turned back to Merlin. "Why would I do that when you're standing right here?"

Merlin looked at Gwaine, his perfect hair, his lovely eyes, and thought, hell with it. "So, you going to buy me a drink?"

"If you like," Gwaine said with a grin. He stepped into Merlin's space to reach the bar and Merlin looked up at him through his eyelashes. Shit, he was drunk. This was excruciating, Arthur so close but a million miles away. Merlin started to think about it: if he took Gwaine up on what he was so obviously offering, would it be so bad? It wouldn't be like having Will back, or finally having Arthur, but damn it all to hell Merlin was young and horny and lonely.

"Or…" Merlin said suddenly, and then he reached up, simple and caught Gwaine's face in his hands.

Gwaine grinned at him and kissed him at once, his tongue slipping into Merlin's mouth hot and needy. Merlin clutched at his long hair and welcomed the rush of sensation, the alcohol blurring everything into pleasure. It was good, to be touched, it had been too damn long.

Merlin pulled back, breathlessly, and Gwaine smiled again.

But then Merlin caught sight of Arthur's face then and something in his expression made his stomach twist. Arthur was staring at him, not at the guy he'd been chatting up mere moments before, but at _him_ with something shocked and a little hurt in his eyes. Merlin let go of Gwaine reflexively, and Arthur seemed to realise that something strange was happening because he looked back to Tall and Built right away.

But Gwaine had noticed. "Oh," he said. "Is it like that?"

"What?" Merlin asked, startled.

Gwaine raised an eyebrow. "You and him. You two have got yourselves into a bit of a pickle, haven't you?"

"What?" Merlin said again, stupidly.

"Look, I'm not the kind of guy who aims at one thing," Gwaine said with a shrug. "I'm more the kind of guy who wakes up and says, 'What am I doing in this bed?'"

"That's fine," Merlin insisted.

"Yeah, I don't think it really is, though," Gwaine said, shrugging and looking past Merlin to make eyes at someone else. "I like that you tried; now know when to give up." 

Then all at once Tall and Built was introducing himself to Gwaine, who looked back over his shoulder to wink at Merlin before disappearing into the crowd.

"What the hell just happened?" Merlin blurted out.

 

"I think my favourite part of tonight," Merlin said, stumbling into Arthur's side as they made their way out of the club, "was when the incredibly hot men we were trying to pull caught sight of each other and decided they were better off together than with either of us."

Arthur chuckled. "Percival actually told me that he didn't think we should be trying to spice our relationship that way, it caused too many problems."

"'Our relationship'?" Merlin repeated, too-loud and slurring slightly. "As in you and me?"

"As in," Arthur said, something strained in his voice.

Merlin glanced at Arthur, but his face seemed perfectly normal. "Do you think the fact that we're friends is keeping us from finding someone?"

"Yes," Arthur said at once. "So I think we should stop being friends, go to mine right now and have sex until neither of us can move."

Merlin's breath caught in his throat for just a moment before reality caught up with him. "You don't mean that. You know you don't."

Arthur looked at him, considering, and whatever he saw made him stop and move in closer. He was drunk, Merlin knew it, they were both drunk, but Merlin's heart still stuttered when Arthur whispered, "What if I do?"

 

Edinburgh-London Drive August 2006 Hour Six (M1)

"I just want this to be clear," Merlin said, sighing. Arthur had apparently received the message that he'd pushed Merlin as far as he could. "Not only did I not take you up on your most generous offer," sarcasm was always a handy tool, "but I never will. At most, we are going to be friends."

"Uh-huh," Arthur said. "How will that feed into your playing house with your childhood sweetheart."

Everything Arthur said was a taunt, designed to goad Merlin into some terrible reaction. But all at once Merlin was perfectly calm. "Yeah, must be pretty hard for you to imagine," he said. "Will and I started as friends. He was the best friend I ever had, in fact. And then it developed from there. He's been the most important person in my life for more than half of it, and your closest emotional connection is with the people you stick your cock into and never call again."

Merlin didn't need to look to know that that one, at least, had found its mark. The roundabout up ahead was controlled by traffic lights, and Merlin stopped the car.

All at once Arthur had undone his seatbelt and slid over to Merlin, who barely had time to force out the single syllable of "Wha-?" before Arthur was kissing him. His hands had come up to hold Merlin's head in place and he was licking into Merlin's mouth, hot and insistent and filthy, and despite his best efforts, Merlin was kissing him back.

A car horn brought Merlin back to his senses and he shoved Arthur away, forcing the car into first gear and through the roundabout.

Neither spoke until they were safely back on a straight section of road.

 

Merlin's bed, August 2012

Merlin couldn't help it, he kissed Arthur right there on the corner of the Tottenham Court Road. Arthur's tongue in Merlin's mouth for the first time in six years and it made him weak at the knees, weak all over. Merlin had been telling himself that this was a horrible, terrible, no-good idea again and again for the better part of a year but now all his common sense had deserted him. He clung desperately to Arthur, arching against him, licking eagerly at Arthur's lips until Arthur cursed and pulled away just long enough to shout, "Taxi!"

"My place is closer," Merlin said, and Arthur kissed him all the way from the club to his flat and now they were here, the door barely closed before Arthur was kissing him again, running his hand over Merlin's skinny collarbones, curling his fingertips into the hollows above. Merlin moved against him impatiently, pressing the length of his body into Arthur's.

Arthur snarled slightly and caught Merlin's hips in both hands, pulling him closer still. It was better by far than all Merlin's feverish imaginings, the heat and the strength of Arthur at last. It was sloppy, of course it was, but it wasn't just the pleasure of the touch, wasn't just a stranger in a bar. It was Arthur, so dear and so craved, finally kissing his way down Merlin's throat, finally stripping the shirt from his body to grant him access to Merlin's pale, skinny chest. Merlin thought of himself as interesting-looking at best but Arthur was doing a very good impression of finding him desirable with the way he flicked his tongue over a nipple before kneeling down in front of Merlin.

"Fuck," Merlin let slip; he'd imagined sucking Arthur's cock but had never thought that Arthur would be the one to fall to his knees. He looked up at Merlin now with eyes burning with desire. Arthur's hands slipped to the front of Merlin's jeans, cupping him slightly; he was so hard already and when Arthur pulled him free his cock sprang out at once, jutting towards Arthur's mouth so that all he had to do was open his lips and slide forward.

Merlin's head slammed back against the wall with the first touch of Arthur's mouth on the head of his cock. He barely felt it, senses overwhelmed with alcohol and now the unbearable pleasure of Arthur's mouth on him, around him. He wondered distantly how many cocks Arthur had sucked in his time, when he'd last done this, but then Arthur slid further forward, taking Merlin all the way into his mouth and all thought stopped except for a chorus of pleas which Merlin only realised were making their way out of his mouth when Arthur pulled back to smile up at him.

"Impatient," Arthur said with a grin, and then he went back to work, making Merlin's hand scrabble at the wall behind him as his legs threatened to give out while Arthur's mouth made its way over the head of Merlin's prick and all the way down the shaft, over and over, the pleasure building until a shock of heat ran down Merlin's spine and he finally exploded, crying out as he came into Arthur's mouth.

Arthur looked up at Merlin then, opening his mouth slightly to show Merlin his own cum all over Arthur's tongue. It was filthy, filthy and the sexiest thing Merlin had ever seen. Without thinking, Merlin slid two fingers into Arthur's mouth, letting them slide through the mess and trace it over Arthur's lips. Arthur kissed Merlin's fingers before he stood to kiss him on the mouth fully, sharing the flavour between them, making Merlin groan.

Arthur's cock was still full and insistent against Merlin's thigh and Merlin reached down at once to push his hand into Arthur's trousers. He couldn't manage the fly and it was up to Arthur to pull his clothes away, gasping when Merlin curled his fingers around Arthur and began to stroke him.

Merlin kept kissing Arthur all the while, kissing him and looking at him, couldn't tear himself away even when Arthur lost his concentration and just gasped into his mouth. Merlin kept biting at his plush lower lip, pushing his tongue forward to meet Arthur's as he panted, his hand moving faster and faster until at last, with a rush of wet heat, Arthur spent himself.

"Fuck," Arthur said with feeling as his heart rate returned to normal.

"Yeah," Merlin said, wiping his mouth.

Not their most articulate conversation, to be sure. But as his pulse rate returned to normal, Merlin didn't quite know what to say and it seemed Arthur didn't, either.

Merlin wanted to kiss him again but suddenly he felt self-conscious. "Do you want to…?" he said, letting the question hang, indicating his bedroom door.

Arthur cleared his throat. He suddenly seemed very, very sober. "Right. Yes, right."

Merlin shook his head slightly at Arthur's uncharacteristic awkwardness and took his hand firmly, intending to lead him. Except that Merlin had forgotten his jeans, pooled around him ankles. "Shit," he said, letting go to reach down and pull them away completely.

When he looked back up, Arthur had tucked himself back in rather than stripping off. Merlin looked at him oddly. "You going to sleep in those?"

"Of course not," Arthur said, but his tone lacked the usual sharp bite. "I'm just ensuring they don't hamper my movements."

Merlin wasn't stupid; he knew that Arthur didn't quite know what to do or say. But, tired and still buzzed from the drink and the spectacular blowjob, Merlin ignored it and dragged Arthur through into the bedroom.

The picture of Will by the bedside threw him slightly, but as Arthur stripped down to his boxers, Merlin thought Will would be all right with this, actually. He'd have hated Arthur but he'd be glad Merlin had someone looking after him.

Arthur lay down on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Merlin threw an arm across his chest and was pleased when Arthur held him back, albeit hesitantly.

They could talk in the morning, Merlin thought just before sleep claimed him.

***

Merlin woke up sleepy and happy and sated. Then he realised he was alone.

At first he thought Arthur had just gone to the bathroom, or maybe to make tea, but when he called out no one answered.

There was a note on the fridge, attached with magnetic poetry. It read simply, "Had to get home. Sorry to sneak out, but you looked so comfy I didn't want to wake you. Pub tonight? A."

Nothing affectionate, nothing teasing. The note could have been from anyone, really.   
Even the words on the magnets he'd chosen were neutral: 'apple' and 'that' and 'one'.

"Fuck," Merlin said, bracing himself on the kitchen counter with both hands. He could remember Arthur's voice clear as day telling him about the lies he'd tell one night stands to get them to leave; at least he'd done Merlin the courtesy of refusing to offer any bullshit explanations. He'd just taken off. 

"Fuck," Merlin said again to the empty flat, blinking hard so that he could pretend his eyes weren't wet.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin's flat, August 2012

How Merlin made it through the day, he really wasn't sure. Mercifully Freya was away for the weekend again, and wouldn't be back until that night. Merlin took the opportunity to scrub down all the surfaces, wash his sheets, remove any and all traces of the previous night's activity from the flat.

When the buzzer went at seven, Merlin was a little confused until he remembered: pub.

Maybe he was being silly, Merlin rationalised. Maybe Arthur had just had things to do today. Maybe he'd open the door and find himself kissed.

When he did open the door, Arthur just stood there, his expression serious, every muscle in his body tense. Merlin felt the little bit of hope he'd still been clinging on to die. Arthur was embarrassed. Arthur thought that it had been a mistake.

"Pub?" Arthur offered.

Merlin smiled weakly. "Sure," he said, already knowing what the conversation was going to involve.

Sure enough, two sips into the first pint after an awkwardly silent walk to the pub, Arthur cleared his throat and said, "Listen, I'm sorry about this morning. I just…"

Unable to stop himself, Merlin blurted out, "It was a mistake."

He didn't know what he was hoping for until he saw Arthur relax, just a little in the shoulders, and felt the sick swoop of disappointment in his stomach.

 

*** 

 

"And that was it?" Freya demanded. "You're telling me that you both just said it was a mistake, had one single drink and went your separate ways? What the hell, Merlin?"

"It wasn't really what he wanted," Merlin said, grateful that he'd told Freya what had happened even if it was only because she'd caught him in a moment of weakness, walking through the door just as he got back from the pub feeling as though his insides had solidified. 

"Do you know what Arthur said? Do you know what his big seductive line was? 'What if I do,'" Merlin said, scoffing at himself. "I was just so desperate for it to be more than a hypothetical that I let him do what Arthur always does when he's hurting or his pride's taken a blow: I let him fuck me. And now it's so weird, Freya, it's so, so weird."

"Yeah," Freya said, sighing. "You boys really made a mess of things. And not a sweet mess, this time. A proper clusterfuck."

"Freya!" Merlin had never heard her swear before.

"You're supposed to talk about your feelings before you leap into bed with your best friend!" Freya said. "Remember? If we had then we wouldn't have spent so long not talking after you got together with Will."

Merlin swallowed. "Freya, I…"

"Not," Freya waved her hand, "trying to make things awkward, just pointing out you should have learned from your mistakes."

"Right," Merlin said. "I just… I thought when he said we should stop being friends and have sex that he meant…"

"Yeah," Freya said, placing her hand gently on the back of Merlin's neck. "I know. You're properly stuck on him, aren't you?"

Merlin didn't dare answer; for Freya that was answer enough. "Oh, Merlin," she said with considerable sympathy and then she was holding him while Merlin tried not to cry.

"Arthur would say I'm being a girl," Merlin forced out.

"Girls aren't the only ones allowed to have feelings," Freya whispered fiercely, "whatever Arthur says."

 "I just really thought he might change," Merlin said before he could manage no more words.

Edinburgh-London Drive August 2006 Hour Seven (M1)

"We can't be friends," Arthur said, and Merlin's head turned automatically. It was the first time Arthur had spoken for a while, the first time since the kiss, really. Arthur licked his lips, watched Merlin watch him do it. "The sex thing will always get in the way."

Merlin's hands tightened reflexively on the steering wheel, cursing himself, Arthur, Will for not bloody being here – everyone and everything was a target just so long as Merlin didn't have to think about how much Arthur was getting under his skin.

"And by, 'the sex thing'," Arthur purred, "I mean 'your inability to resist me'."

Just like that, Merlin's mood shifted. "I don't know," he said, seething. "I'm finding you pretty resistible just at the moment. You keep your hands to yourself from now on or I swear I'll tip you out of the car."

Arthur laughed, and well he might – Merlin had precisely zero chance of forcing him from the car if he didn't want to go. Worse, Merlin had to admit that Arthur had rather made his point.

 

Ironmonger's Hall, September 2012

"Have you still not learned how to dress yourself?" Morgana said, flicking Arthur's tie with disdain.

Arthur smoothed it down. "It's Paul Smith, Morgana, have some respect."

"Always labels with you," Morgana said, shaking her head in despair.

Arthur manfully restrained himself from remarking that if anything, her vintage number was actually _more_ pretentious and said, "I'm not sure exactly how you intend to top this when it comes to your actual wedding."

"The wedding is going to be quiet, discreet, and preferably on a tropical beach somewhere. Hence the need for this spectacular engagement party," Morgana said. "Otherwise Uther would just be unbearable."

For a place called the Ironmonger's Hall, Arthur had to admit the backdrop was pretty spectacular, all stained glass, high ceilings and Tudoresque wood panelling. Uther Pendragon was in his element here, Arthur thought. He was taking great delight in playing the host. With dinner over and the guests table-hopping at will, this was his big chance to speak to all of Morgana's friends and see if he could manage to terrify the ones who'd finally acclimatised themselves to Morgana's own witchy ways. 

"I'm not sure I ever consider Father bearable as such," Arthur said dryly.

He bit his lip as his eyes landed on Merlin. It wasn't exactly subtle, the way Morgana had seated him at the table most visible from Arthur's chair at the top table. Nor was it subtle the way Merlin had refused to so much as glance in his direction.

"He has his moments," Morgana said. "And you have yours."

"Blurting out that Leon was crazy about you appears to have worked in your favour," Arthur said, looking at Morgana archly.

Her lip curled. "I suppose that means you want to be thanked for it."

Arthur shrugged and tried to hide his smile. It was good to see Morgana and Leon together after so much time. They were a natural pair – it as just that for some reason the thought had never crossed Morgana's mind. But once it did, that was essentially that.

"All right, I'll thank you," Morgana said, leaning in to Arthur's side. "Tell Merlin how you feel."

Arthur recoiled at once. "Morgana, I…"

"I know that something's very wrong with the two of you," she said, taking Arthur's hand. "And this is my special day and you are screwing it up. So fix it! Admit that you miss him!"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "Morgana, I want to talk to him. It's just…"

Morgana glared. Morgana’s glare had been known to reduce grown men to quivering, twitching wrecks and while Arthur would always claim, out of her earshot, that it didn’t affect him, this time he knew she was right.

"I'll talk to him," Arthur mumbled.

"Good," Morgana said, smiling again. "No time like the present." With that, she placed her hand between Arthur's shoulder blades and not-so gently shoved him towards where Merlin sat.

***

Arthur didn't quite feel up to planting himself down at Merlin's table, though, even after everyone had started moving around. He found himself lurking in a corner until a familiar messy head of dark hair headed for the bar.

Arthur drained his wine and went after him.

"Merlin," Arthur said, forcing cheer into his voice.

Merlin tensed. "Hello," was all he said.

"Lovely party," Arthur said, gesturing around the room.

"Beautiful venue," Merlin agreed, but he gave nothing more.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Good thing it wasn't too cold, today," he said.

Merlin looked at him askance. "Right."

Arthur fidgeted. Damn it, why was this so hard? This was Merlin, Merlin who had told Arthur that he was his best friend. Talking to him should be easy. "How have you been?" he said at last.

"I don't want to talk about this," Merlin said at once, turning back to the bar.

"Because of what happened?" Arthur could understand that, it had made him feel awkward as hell, too. "But how are we going to get past it if we don't talk about it?"

"You didn't want to talk when it happened, remember?" said Merlin. "You just wanted to pretend it didn't happen. Your exact words, I seem to recall."

"You agreed!" Arthur said, stung. "You said you thought it was a mistake, you agreed. I thought we'd go back to being friends, I thought…"

Merlin just looked at him. Arthur knew what he was thinking, that everything had changed, and he was right. Arthur couldn't lie to himself anymore, not now that he knew what Merlin's face looked like when he was completely lost in desire. His body was different to Arthur and Arthur wanted to touch him again, but didn't dare. How had things gone so wrong?

"Why are you acting like you weren't there?" Arthur burst out. "Like we didn't talk this through. We had a drunken shag. You kissed _me_ first, how am I the bad guy?"

Merlin's eyes darted around the room, presumably to check whether any listeners were within earshot; he caught Arthur by the elbow and hauled him out into the hallway by the cloakroom. The door swung shut behind them as Merlin wheeled around to face him. "Maybe because you were the one who bolted, to let me wake up alone. That's not exactly friendly, is it, Arthur?"

"All right, I ballsed up," Arthur admitted. "I’m sorry. But why can't we get past this?"

"Because it may not have meant anything to you, Arthur, but that doesn't mean it was meaningless to me!"

Arthur tensed then, all over. So that was it? "It's always the same," he said, almost to himself. "The minute you have sex with someone, expectations start."

"Christ, Arthur, I am not 'someone'," Merlin said, managing to keep his tone level though Arthur could tell he felt like screaming. Then suddenly his face changed; when he spoke again it was in a much smaller voice, "Or am I?"

Arthur had been callous about a hundred one night stands or more. He'd told girls that his wife was waiting for him, men that he was closeted or 'not gay'. He'd pretended to have business meetings and breakfasts and he'd never blinked about any of it, not when they cried, not when they screamed, not when that one girl had beat him around the head with her boot. Except for that blip with Gwen, Arthur was impervious to emotional shit. But Arthur couldn't bear the pain in Merlin's blue eyes and knowing he was the cause.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Arthur said at once, scared now that he could see Merlin taking everything the wrong way. "You're my friend, you know you are."

He reached out, then, but Merlin flinched away. "Just so we're clear," Merlin said, voice colder now, "I don't expect anything from you, all right?"

"You seem to expect me to know how to act!" said Arthur desperately. "I'm trying, all right? I don't want to lose our friendship but I can't figure out why you're acting like this! You knew what I was like!"

"Yeah and you know what I'm like," Merlin hurled at him. "You know I don't sleep with just anyone. So what was it, Arthur, did you decide that I needed to get laid so badly that you'd throw yourself on the sword for me?"

Arthur hesitated and Merlin's hand went to his mouth. "Oh my God, is that what happened?"

"No," Arthur said, "of course not," but he was too slow. And that wasn't it, it wasn't. He just hadn't been thinking. Merlin on that dark street with that shampoo model's handprints all over him and Arthur had finally given into the yawning want that plagued him almost constantly, the little voice saying _you'll fuck this up_ apparently silenced by the gay-looking cocktails.

"So, what?" Merlin demanded, really yelling now, the words scraping his throat as though he had been shouting for hours. "You took pity on me? Fuck you!"

Merlin shoved past Arthur hard; Arthur reached out to catch his arm, wanting to explain, praying the words would come to him, but just then, at the worst possible moment, Uther came through the door.

"Ah, there you are, son," he said. "Morgana was looking for you. Oh," he said, seeing Merlin. "Is this a friend of yours?"

"No," Merlin said bluntly. "I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass."

Then he was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was supposed to be 4 parts. I swear it won't get longer than 6!

Edinburgh-London Drive August 2006. Hour Seven-and-a-bit: Arrival in London

"So," Merlin said, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Here we are. This is the right address, isn't it?"

"At last," Arthur said, heartfelt. He opened the door and unfolded his body, pulling his bag from the back seat.

"You don't want to come in, break your journey?" Arthur could not possibly have meant it less.

"Think I'd rather get to the flat. See Will." Merlin could not possibly have meant it more.

"Right then. Well," Arthur said, handing over a wad of notes without even looking. "There's the petrol money. Have a nice life."

"You too," Merlin said, forcing a smile.

Arthur closed the door and hefted his bag up onto his shoulder. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath as he went. "Thank God I'll never see _him_ again."

"Clotpole," Merlin muttered under his as he pulled away from the kerb. "Thank God I'll never see _him_ again."

 

October 2012

You have one new voicemail. Message received on 10 October at 13:47

_Merlin, it's Arthur. I know you prefer to text usually, but you haven't been replying so… Look, I'm sorry. I know I made a hash of everything. I miss you. Please call me?_

Message deleted. End of messages.

 

You have one new voicemail. Message received on 15 October at 09:32

_Merlin? Please, will you answer the phone if you can? I'll call you back any time you want to talk, just let me know when._

Message deleted. End of messages.

 

You have three new voicemails. First message received on 26 October at 01:13

_You know what? Fuck you, too._

 

Second message received on 26 October at 01:36

_Merlin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. But fuck, you're my best mate, you know you are, you can't just…_

Message deleted.

 

Third message received on 26 October at 02:04

_Mer-_

Message deleted. End of messages.

 

Arthur's flat, Kensington. November 2012

Arthur had found himself with a lot of free time to fill since Merlin stopped speaking to him. It was odd. He wasn't the type to read, and while he had been known to indulge in a box set fest or three in his time, most of his favourites now carried with them memories of being watched with Merlin providing running commentary, and/or crunching crisps over the dialogue.

Clubbing on your own was just sad. Arthur had tried actually dating the last couple of people he'd had sex with, but it had proved to be just as much hassle as he'd always thought it would be and even less fun.

It was pretty pathetic that Arthur couldn't think how to fill his days any more, but Morgana and Leon were busy being happily shacked up together and most of Arthur's other friends had been lost to Gwen in the divorce.

"I need new friends," Arthur told his empty flat.

He finally gave in and decided to rearrange his wardrobe. Mercifully, he was only twenty minutes in to this ridiculous chore when his phone began to ring.

The Doctor Who theme? Arthur frowned, snatching for his phone where he'd dumped it on the bed.

Merlin calling, the screen announced.

Arthur broke into a grin: he'd worn Merlin down! "Hi! Merlin! I didn't think you were going to… I mean, how are you?"

Merlin cleared his throat. Arthur could picture Merlin's throat moving, had seen the motion several dozen times. It was one of his tells, but Arthur had already known he would be feeling awkward.

"I've been busy," Merlin said quietly. "Lots to do at work, you know."

"Yes, of course," Arthur said, quick to pounce on any subject that wasn't the two of them and the horizontal tango and how that had screwed up their whole friendship. "I've been really busy at work, too, you know, lots of deals to make and poor people to exploit."

That should have made Merlin laugh. Instead he just sighed. "I got your last six messages. What do you want, Arthur?"

"Nothing," Arthur said, unable to hide the slight hurt in his voice. "Nothing, I just want to talk to you, Merlin."

"Right," Merlin said. "Of course. Look, Arthur, you know what you said?"

Arthur was rather too afraid to guess. "Which particular pearl of wisdom?"

"The bit where I asked you if us being friends was keeping us from meeting anyone and you said yes," Merlin said quietly.

"Well, really that's more something you said," Arthur tried, but he knew what was coming.

"All right, what I said," Merlin said, as though the fight had all drained out of him. "I can't do this anymore, Arthur, I want something in my life that's real. Please don't call me again."

"Merlin!" Arthur blurted, urgent, not knowing what he would possibly say after that, but it didn't matter anyway because Merlin had hung up.

 

Soho, London. December 2012

Morgana was not one of the world's greatest cooks, but Arthur speared another piece of bland penne and shoved it into his mouth to show willing.

"What are you going to do for New Year?" Morgana said idly.

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know," he said around his food. "I was kind of hoping that you guys might know of a party?"

Morgana pursed her lips and looked at Leon.

"Well, actually," Leon began awkwardly, "the two of us rented a cottage in Devon."

"Oh," Arthur said, stabbing another piece of pasta with his fork. "Just the two of you."

Leon nodded. "Yes. I mean, with the wedding coming up and everything we thought this would be a nice chance to relax, just the two of us."

"No, I get it," Arthur said, curling into himself a little more.

"Oh for God's sake," Morgana snapped suddenly. "I'm sorry but this is too much. You know that Freya and I still talk, don't you?"

Arthur's head snapped up. "What?"

"If I've got this right, you got drunk, you shagged Merlin rotten when you _know_ he's in love with you, and now you're surprised that he won't talk to you anymore?"

Arthur stared at her step-sister, slack-jawed. "Merlin's in love with me?"

Morgana snarled in exasperation. "Oh, please. You know, just like I knew Leon had feelings for me."

Arthur's bewildered gaze landed on Leon, who shrugged ruefully. "She did," he said. "She just didn't know if I was ever going to follow through."

"In the end, though," Morgana snapped, "I decided I was tired of waiting and so after your stunt at the pub I cornered him and pounced."

"It was a great pounce," Leon agreed.

That finally shook Arthur out of his catatonia to protest, "I don't need that mental picture!"

"He speaks!" Morgana retorted. "The rumours of brain death are only half-true."

"My God, you're hilarious," Arthur returned before he put down his fork. "And you're wrong, Merlin isn't in love with me."

"Right," Morgana said. "Of the two of us, I'm the more emotionally obtuse."

Arthur felt his jaw grow slack.

"Look," Morgana went on, "I see that you're all woe-is-me about losing your friend, and I understand, I do. Losing Gwen was really hard for me."

"What?" Arthur said in disbelief.

Morgana snorted. "Oh, I know it was harder for you, but I lost her too. Which is sort of my point: are you in love with Merlin?"

Arthur had no idea how to answer that question.

"Because if you aren't, I think you should leave him alone," Morgana said bluntly.

Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But Morgana, I…"

"You messed with him," Morgana said flatly. "I know, you didn't mean things to turn out this way, but he's told you what he needs. Losing him might be hard for you, but it'll be harder for him. So respect that. Let him find someone else, who'll love him back."

 

Old Town, Edinburgh. December 2012

"Baltic outside, isn't it?" said one shop owner cheerfully as Merlin shivered into his wool coat while buying Edinburgh rock. Merlin smiled back. He'd always liked it here, the accents and the friendly Scottish strangers and even the bitter cold.

It was funny. In a year full of Arthur, Merlin had chosen to mark the end of it by coming back to Edinburgh, which always reminded him of Will.

At the top of Victoria Street he remembered showing Will around for the first time and Will having a comment about every aspect of the city until Merlin had kissed him in sheer exasperation to make him stop. At Tollcross, he remembered feeding Will cake from a bakery that wasn't there any more – he'd gone looking. On the Meadows, he remembering lying in the sun in May, Will muttering about socialism the whole time while Merlin sang pop songs and smiled sweetly when Will glared at him.

Edinburgh was saturated with Will. Merlin didn't know what he was doing, trying to poke at the wounds. It was like he was trying to hide from his hurt over Arthur by revisiting the more familiar grief over Will, but that thought made his stomach twist. He'd loved Will for so long – he'd known he was moving on but he'd never thought he'd be using Will as a place to hide.

He tried to imagine what Will would have said. Something cutting, no doubt, but then he'd have held Merlin's hand.

"You picked a right one this time, Merlin," Will would say.

"They can't all be princes like yourself," Merlin might reply.

"Well, some acts are hard to follow," Will would agree.

And Merlin would want to explain. "When I first met Arthur, I hated him. I thought he was pompous and arrogant."

Merlin could just picture the look on Will's face then, asking him without words why Merlin had revised this sensible opinion.

"There's something in him," Merlin would want to explain. "Something great."

"Can't be too great if he doesn't see what he's got in you," Will would say. He was always trying to build Merlin up, when he wasn't making Merlin question his priorities. They'd argued a lot, just like he did now with Arthur.

"I miss you, too, Will," Merlin whispered to the street, empty but for the memories. It didn't sting as he'd feared, didn't make him feel lonely. Instead he was glad to be back. He'd finally learned how to remember Will without it crippling him.

Merlin squared his shoulders. It meant that he could learn to let go of Arthur, too, however much the thought burned his insides. He could do this. He could learn to be alone.

 

Arthur's flat, Kensington. 30 December 2012

Arthur was starting to hate being alone in his flat. What had once been a sanctuary was now a trap where Morgana's words kept echoing in his head. _Someone else, who'll love him back_.

Well, Merlin should find someone. Of course he should. No one as wonderful as Merlin was going to be single forever, after all.

But the thought of it made Arthur sick. Someone in Merlin's life, laughing with him, watching Doctor Who and eating Eton Mess together. Merlin making this faceless man happy, the way he'd made Arthur happy.

Then all at once the man wasn't faceless, he was the man Arthur had watched Merlin kiss in G-A-Y. Arthur pictured Merlin's hands tugging at Gwaine's hair, the smiles they'd share and the way Arthur would be pushed forever to the side of Merlin's life.

_'Our relationship'? As in you and me?_

Arthur needed a drink.

Why was he even thinking about this? Arthur asked himself as he took a long, steadying swallow of beer. He hadn't managed to hold on to Gwen, hadn't been enough for her. Why would he be enough for Merlin, Merlin who walked through the world with his heart on his sleeve, who was so endlessly kind and who…

 _You're my best fucking friend,_ he said even though Arthur had told him they couldn't be friends.

 _Why don't I…be your jealous boyfriend._ Merlin had said, and Arthur had told him no.

 _You were the one who bolted, let me wake up alone. That's not exactly friendly, is it, Arthur?_ Merlin was right: Arthur had run away and then when Merlin offered him an out he'd taken it even though he could see Merlin didn't really believe what he was saying. Arthur had been a coward the way he'd always been a coward; he'd screwed things up and all he wanted in the world was to have Merlin back, looking at him the way he had before.

Merlin had been right: Arthur had loved Gwen and he'd never moved on, not really, never believed her last words to him. But the only time he'd felt an ache like this was when she left and it was ten times worse this time because Merlin was his best friend, and Arthur wanted him back desperately and there was nothing between them at all except his own idiocy and cowardice.

Arthur swore. He was reaching for his phone and dialling Morgana before he thought about it.

"Morgana? Where are Merlin and Freya spending New Year?"

Morgana didn't say anything but she could transmit disapproval through silence. Then, "I told you to leave him alone."

"Yes," Arthur said, "yes, but only if I didn't… you know. And the thing is, I do."

Another long silence met that pronouncement. Arthur hoped like hell she'd understood because to be frank he didn't have any better way of explaining himself to her.

Then at last, "I knew you weren't a gutless coward!"

"Thank you for you staggering confidence in me?" said Arthur, relieved. She was going to help him.

"Right," Morgana said brightly. "The problem now is, how are you going to get to Edinburgh by tomorrow when you never bothered learning to drive?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... hi! It has been a crazy 3 years since I updated this fic - wow. I had no idea it had been so long. All I can say is, my life changed radically when I was in the middle of writing this fic and the last part just wouldn't work no matter what I did. But now I have a version I'm happy with, at last! And here it is (unbeta'd, don't hate me.) Just the coda to follow - thank you so much to anyone who stuck with this or commented that they'd still like to see a conclusion after all this time. You guys are the best.

Edinburgh Airport. 9.20pm 31 December 2012

"That's the thing, Morgana," Arthur said smugly as he walked through the terminal. "You don't have to drive if you can afford taxis and air tickets."

"And I suppose you think there'll be a whole rank of taxis waiting for you?" Morgana snapped back, her irritation at not having been able to say I-told-you-so palpable even through the crackling mobile connection.

"I only need one," Arthur said, triumphantly, bursting out into the icy Scottish air.

"Right," Morgana said flatly. "And where exactly are you going now?"

Arthur paused. In the spike of adrenaline over realising how he felt, he'd got as far as planning: fly to Edinburgh, find Merlin, make grand gesture.

"Er," Arthur said, wrong-footed.

"You don't know where in the city he is, do you?" Morgana said. That tone was creeping towards something a little more smug.

"I'll figure it out!" he snapped and hung up with a vicious stab of his index finger.

There was indeed no long line of taxis but there was one and Arthur bolted towards it, ducking past a woman struggling with her suitcase to jump in and slam the door.

The driver looked at him askance in the rear view mirror. "Urgent, is it?"

"Very," Arthur said as his phone began to ring. "City centre?"

"It's closed."

"The best you can do, then," Arthur said, lifting his phone to his ear. "Yes, Morgana?"

"It's Leon," said a more masculine voice. "Morgana was looking ever so slightly furious so I thought it best to act as mediator. There may have been some ranting."

"Wonderful," Arthur groaned, sinking back in the taxi seat, grateful at least that the cab driver was following instructions.

"I gather, though, that you've reached Edinburgh?"

"Yes. So that's something." Arthur hadn't let the flicker of despair he'd felt when Morgana had rightly pointed out the flaw in his master plan affect him, at least not at first. But the reality of what he was attempted was beginning to dawn on him.

Edinburgh had a population of just under half a million within the city centre even before taking the New Year tourists into consideration. If Merlin was at the street party, he'd be just one of fifteen thousand people there. If he was somewhere else, that made him one of a hundred and twenty thousand revellers, conservatively, based on the numbers the city used to get when Arthur was a student. Oh, and if he wasn't, he could be anywhere in the city including somewhere on the other side, past the closed central streets where revellers gathered.

"Really have no idea where exactly he might be?"

"No. No way of finding out, either, since Merlin blocked me on Facebook," Arthur said and oh, that one stung more than it should have given that Arthur was neither fifteen nor a girl.

Wait – Leon. "But you're still on Freya's?"

"Ye-es?" Leon said slowly.

"So you might be able to see where her party is happening?"

"Just a second," Leon said quietly and then he apparently covered the receiver while he and Morgana exchanged a few rapid sentences of which he caught only _absolute tit!_ from his best beloved sister.

The taxi driver looked at him again. "Lost your friends?"

Arthur laughed, though it came out a little choked. "Something like that, yeah," he said.

 

Private party, Edinburgh. 9.45pm 31 December 2012

Shouting to be heard over the band, Freya cried, "Merlin? You still with us?"

Merlin snapped out of his daydream and blinked at Freya. "Yes. Yes, of course, sorry, just…" He waved his hand to indicate that he was being overwhelmed by sheer volume. On the other side of the bar, a ceilidh was going on and the air was filled with cheerfully bouncing music of the kind Merlin usually found amusing, but which tonight was making him want to hit things.

Freya frowned and put down her glass of Glen Livet. Merlin flinched, knowing that he must be in trouble if the whisky was actually being released from Freya's hand. She beckoned him close to shout in his ear with greater ease. "This was your idea!"

A real Edinburgh Hogmanay, he'd said. Let's see in 2013 in style!

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to bring you down. Maybe I should…"

"If you say you're leaving, I will throttle you," Freya said in a tone so reminiscent of Morgana that Merlin had no trouble believing that she meant it. "You're here, you're going to have a good time. You dragged me to Scotland for goodness' sake!"

Freya seemed so indignant about that last that Merlin couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "You're right. I'm sorry. At the very least the fireworks will be impressive."

"I know, you mentioned," Freya said, rolling her eyes.

Merlin smiled and this time it wasn't forced; he was very lucky to have a friend like Freya. She smiled back.

"Come and dance with me," she said, holding out her hand.

"Just don't blame me if I step on your feet," Merlin returned but he allowed himself to be swept up on to the floor.

 

Somewhere in Corstorphine, Edinburgh. 9.50pm 31 December 2012

“Leon?” Arthur answered the phone at once. The taxi ride was taking forever: half the roads in the city were closed, the others congested or simply blocked off with abandoned cars or groups of people wandering around looking for somewhere else to drink.

“Almost,” came Morgana’s tart voice. “I hope you realise that this took considerable sleuthing. Freya hadn’t joined any kind of Facebook event so I had to trace back who she’d discussed it with, then find out who was hosting and where they lived. Which was not easy because the host, some guy called Cenred…”

Arthur started; Morgana carried on talking, “Cenred is one of those people who has his Facebook account locked up like the Bank of England.”

Of all people, how in the hell did Freya know Cenred? “God, have mercy,” Arthur moaned.

“Are you listening to me?” Morgana snapped.

Arthur took a deep breath. “The address, Morgana?”

There was a resentful silence before Morgana finally blurted it out.

“Thank you,” Arthur said and ended the call.

“Know where we’re going yet?” said the driver.

“Constitution Street,” Arthur said triumphantly.

The driver turned around to glare at him. “You are kidding, mate. It’s on the other side of the city! I’m on the wrong road to get there! And most of the routes will be closed!”

“I’ll triple the fare?” Arthur said desperately.

The driver’s eyebrows shot up. “Aye, right.”

Arthur checked his watch. 9.56pm and counting. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a fist full of banknotes.

The driver’s eyes widened.

“Quadruple if we get there in the next half hour,” Arthur added recklessly.

“Best get your belt on,” the driver said before executing a perfectly terrifying U-turn in the middle of the street.

 

Private party, Constitution Street, Edinburgh. 10.20pm 31 December 2012

Merlin danced with Freya to the smooth stylings of Jools Holland, spinning her around the large sitting room with all the sofas pushed back to create enough space. He did love to dance, when he'd drunk enough not to be self-conscious. And Freya was a good partner, light on her feet and responsive. She giggled when he dipped her.

"Freya!" called out a male voice as they straightened.

"Cenred!" She waved and bounced over to hug him. "Hey, great to see you. Thanks for inviting us!"

"Of course," he said. Merlin eyed him warily. Any friend of Freya's was a friend of his but this one seemed to be a biker or a heavy metal type, judging by all the leather. Not the sort of person he'd expected.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived – had to make an emergency booze run before the offie closed." Cenred rolled his eyes. "Morgause was supposed to have everything stocked up but of course she bought nothing but wine and vodka. Hogmanay is a beer and whisky night."

Morgause, the blonde who'd let them in, retorted from across the room, "Only for the classless!"

Freya laughed. "Ah, marriage."

"It suits us," Cenred said.

A memory from years before was tugging at Merlin's mind and he found himself blurting out, "You don't know an Arthur Pendragon, do you?"

Cenred straightened, startled. "There's a blast from the past!"

Merlin nodded to himself. Of course it was the same person.

"Oh, you know Arthur?" Freya said, startled.

"Used to. He slept his way round half the course back in the day." Cenred shrugged. "But that was years ago. How do you know him?"

"Met him on his way sleeping around London," Merlin said bitterly.

"Ah," Cenred said. "Well." He didn't seem to know what to say.

You are going to get over this, Merlin ordered himself sternly. "Sorry. Just, weird coincidence. You knowing him and knowing Freya."

"Well, Edinburgh's never been very big. And Freya did date a friend of mine back when."

"Yeah?" Merlin said, surprised. "You never said."

Freya shrugged. "We weren't as close back then."

Merlin nodded his response. He considered Cenred a moment longer. There was no denying that the man was attractive, if not his type. But coming into contact with yet another reminder of Arthur was exhausting.

"I don't suppose some of that beer is going spare?" Merlin asked.

 

Ferry Road, Edinburgh. 10.53pm 31 December 2012

The taxi had gone around what felt like most of the city. The driver had only added insult to injury by telling Arthur that this journey on another night would only have taken half an hour or so, but Arthur couldn’t deny that the streets were crowded and the driver had done a good job of dodging out of the gridlock in the New Town.

Finally, finally, they made it to Constitution Street. Arthur looked out of the window searching for the right number, practically jumping out of the taxi at once when he saw it.

"Just a minute there pal, the doors lock automatically!" the driver said as Arthur tugged at it.

Arthur swore and threw all the notes in his hand at the driver who stopped the cab at once. Arthur stepped out into the icy air, the Georgian buildings magnificent in the dark, orange-lit street. He ran to the door and checked his phone for the flat number. The neat name labels by the buzzers didn't help him – he couldn't have remembered Cenred's surname if the fate of the world depended on it. 

He pushed the buzzer, once, twice, and finally someone responded, the metallic buzz indicating the door was being opened. He ran into the stairwell and up to the second floor, finding the flat door open and a blonde woman smoking at the entrance to the party.

"Hello," she said, her voice all smoke and ash.

"Hello," he replied, breathless. "I'm sorry, could I just…" Merlin was just on the other side of that door. A minute more and they could be together.

She didn't move. "Friend of Cenred's?"

"Something like that."

She raised an eyebrow. 

Arthur ground his teeth. "Actually I know Freya and Merlin and I was told they'd be here. I'm sorry if I'm crashing your party."

"It's New Year. All welcome," she said, though it sounded more rote than sincere. "But I'm afraid you've missed them."

It took a moment for Arthur to process that. "What?"

"They left about ten minutes ago," she said with a shrug.

Arthur gaped at her. It wasn't possible. He'd gone full-on romcom to make a dramatic entrance and declare his love and now Merlin just _wasn't there?_

"Well, do you know where they went?" he managed at last.

"Can't you text one of them?"

"No, because…" Arthur swallowed. How could he tell her that they had most likely blocked his number?

"Oh, is the network jammed already?"

"Yes!" he agreed far too heartily. "Yes, so if you could just…" He tried to squeeze past her but she wasn't having any of it.

"I'm sorry, but who did you say you were?"

"My name's Arthur. Look, I just wanted to…"

"Arthur? Pendragon?" The blonde's face came over all amused.

"Yes," he said, resignation seeping into his tone and every molecule of his body.

"I'm Morgause," the woman said before calling into the flat behind her. "Cenred? Could you come here a moment?"

"Perfect," Arthur muttered to himself.

And then there was Cenred, still visibly into leather years after the metal scene had died. "Pendragon?" he said. "Well bloody hell. I've not thought of you in years and your name just came up an hour ago!"

"Terrific," Arthur sighed. "Look, I'm trying to find Merlin."

"That attractive skinny bloke? Took off already," Cenred said, cheerfully cruel as he always had been. 

That was the limit. "So, what, you're going to keep me in the stairwell? Do you really expect me to accept that? Just to stand here and take your word that Merlin's gone? I won't rest until I at least try."

"You have some nerve," Morgause shot at him. "Trying to barge into our home, uninvited."

"That Merlin bloke didn't seem fond of you," Cenred added.

"Because I ballsed up!" Arthur yelled, all his frustration coming loose at once. "And I am trying to fix it but to do that I have to _talk_ to him!"

"Oh," Cenred said. "Like that, is it?"

Arthur swore again. "Yeah, it's like that, Cenred. People change."

"I haven't," Cenred said smugly.

Another moment and Arthur might have punched the wall, but Morgause was giving him a shrewd look. "They really did leave," she said softly, drawing long and hard on her cigarette. "They went to Calton Hill to watch the fireworks."

"Calton Hill!" Arthur said, suddenly offered hope. "Thank you!"

He took off running down the stairs to Cenred's cry, "There'll be hundreds of people up there!"

That was all right; Arthur only needed one.

 

Calton Hill, Edinburgh. 11.48pm 31 December 2012

"I'm just saying, this is a city which leaves a hell of a lot of old junk lying around," Freya said, dodging around a family group to catch up to Merlin. 

"It's a canon, Freya," said Merlin, exasperated. "It's not a rubbish bin."

"Yeah, and I had to walk all the way up this damned hill to almost walk slam into the canon," Freya grumbled. Calton Hill was crowded, as he'd known it would be, but there was space to stand slightly apart from other groups of people and no one would complain about them drinking in public tonight, despite the law. It was Hogmanay for everyone, after all.

"Yes, the walk was terrible. But look at the views!" Merlin said, sweeping his hands around. The city did indeed appear to great advantage: The Balmoral with its famous clock tower, the dark sweep of Princes Street, the spire of the Scott Monument. And of course over it all, the castle lit up blue and white, saltire splashed across Castle Rock. "God, I miss it here sometimes."

"But you love London," Freya objected, darting under his arm to drape it across her shoulders. "You love your job."

"They have social policy in Scotland," Merlin said, hugging her.

Freya looked up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Is that what you're thinking now? Moving back here?"

Merlin looked at her a moment, her dear face. "No," he said, but as she started to relax he clarified, "not here. I've lived here. I loved it but I think it's a new start I need."

"Yeah?" Freya said, her voice wavering a little. "The one you'll get in-" she checked her watch "-ten minutes not enough for you?"

Merlin rocked her gently against his side. "You're my best friend, Freya."

She smiled at him sadly. "Ah, well. If it's only ten minutes to go we'd better break out the booze."

"Champers, darling?" he said in his poshest Morningside voice, trying to make her giggle.

She managed a smile. "But in plastic cups!"

"Nothing but the best," Merlin agreed.

 

Leith Street, Edinburgh. 11.54pm 31 December 2012

The problem was, Arthur reflected, that he'd forgotten exactly how to get up Calton Hill from this side. He'd walked the length of Leith Walk as quick as he could but it was two miles uphill. Calton Hill, he knew from festivals past, was most easily accessed from the other side. There _was_ a way on from this side but Arthur had forgotten which of the side streets led to it and he'd ended up taking a few wrong turns, always having to return to the main road.

He was desperate to make it to Merlin's side before midnight. The symbolism of it, the two of them seeing 2013 in with their differences put aside, was part of the lure, part of why Arthur had decided to go for the Grand Romantic Gesture. That and his hope that it would buy him forgiveness. But he was being thwarted at every turn by exactly the things Merlin had berated him for: other people existed. They had their own plans and agendas and didn't always tell him about them. And the more he had to charge round the city, the more he was beginning to lose confidence in his plans. Merlin might just tell him to stuff it. Why wouldn't he?

At London Road there was a police van with a sign saying "Road closed", all red and white and official. Next to it was something slightly more makeshift reading only, "Access to Calton Hill from Waterloo Place."

Arthur was going to have to go around it. He swore, and took off at a run.

 

Calton Hill, Edinburgh. 11.56pm 31 December 2012

"No matter what, I'm still going to be around," Merlin said. "I'm not talking about moving to Greece or anything."

"I know," Freya said, pulling a face. "It's just… you know me. I'm not good with friends. I scare most people away."

"I am not 'most people'," Merlin said. "And I should never have brought this up. We're here to revel in another year of living, right?"

"Right!" Freya said and raised her plastic cup to meet his. " _Slainte._ "

Merlin held her closer and wished he was having as much fun as he felt he should have been.

 

Waterloo Place, Edinburgh. 11.58pm 31 December 2012

"Almost there…" Arthur puffed out, rounding the corner and bolting past revellers out in their dozens. Some lad having a laugh tried to get in his way and Arthur dodged him footie-style, barely breaking his stride. If he did get Merlin back he'd have to tell him how his football skills had helped. See if Merlin still mocked the game after that. If Merlin even spoke to him again.

Arthur increased his pace.

 

Calton Hill, Edinburgh. 11.59pm 31 December 2012

The Balmoral's clock read one minute to midnight and the crowd's revelry was reaching climax. Merlin topped up his champagne first then Freya's, thinking of all the ways he could change his life in 2013. New city, perhaps. New boyfriend, definitely. He could have it all in only…

"Ten!" shouted the crowd. Merlin grinned at Freya and joined in for the next cry of "Nine!"

"Eight!"

***

"No, no, no," Arthur managed as he charged his way up the hill.

"Seven!" the crowd disagreed. "Six!"

***

"Five," Merlin and Freya shouted, clutching at their drinks and each other, the future trying to snap into focus even as Merlin's brain worked hard on torturing him.

"Four!" _The number of people Arthur's had simultaneous sex with._

"Three!" _The number of messages he left the night before I really did tell him to fuck off._

_Stop it!_

***

"Two!" _The chances Merlin had given him that he'd fucked up._

"One!" _The number of people he wanted to find in this crowd of thousands, the moments he hadn't taken to think this through, the number of chances he had left… ___

__And the cheer went up, and it was 2013, and Arthur was all alone._ _

__

__ Calton Hill, Edinburgh. 12.05am 1 January 2013 _ _

__The Hogmanay fireworks were always something to see – Edinburgh prided itself on the display. Merlin liked the waterfalls of gold best, wondered if they'd turn his skin or his eyes gold, if reflections could move so far._ _

__Almost immediately after the fireworks ended though the crowd began to disperse. The hill was, after all, a great vantage point but not much else. There certainly wasn't a bar, or anywhere to sit down that wasn't just the earth._ _

__"So what now?" Freya said._ _

__Merlin shrugged. "Pub?"_ _

__The way they'd come up seemed to be closed off so they ended up following the crowds down the south side of the hill, handier for Newington than Leith. Still, at least there were some steps there._ _

__"We're going to find a proper Scottish pub though, right?" Merlin was asking as they walked down the final set of steps to take them back onto Waterloo Place. "None of this George Street Londonesque stuff."_ _

__"It can be wall to wall tartan if that will make you happy," Freya said, rolling her eyes._ _

__"You know that's not what I mean- oh, sorry mate." Merlin had practically tripped over someone hunched over on the bottom step, sitting despite the tide of people trying to move past him. The bloke seemed very still so Merlin looked back again. "You all right?"_ _

__"Yeah, Merlin," Arthur said, straightening. "I'm all right."_ _

__Merlin could feel the blood drain from his face._ _

__"Arthur!" Freya said, shocked. "Arthur's _here_."_ _

__Arthur nodded, gave her a tight smile. He barely glanced her way though, his eyes large and haunted and drinking Merlin in, water to the parched. "Hi Freya."_ _

__Merlin bit his lip._ _

__Arthur's lips twisted into an unhappy slash as he tried to explain, "I wanted to find you for the bells. I did but I couldn't…"_ _

__Freya cleared her throat. "I'm just going to… yeah." And off she went._ _

__Arthur's smile became a shade more sincere. "She never could make a subtle exit."_ _

__"What are you doing here?" Merlin asked quietly. It had been a hell of a day, his heart lurching from Will to Arthur to solitude and now Arthur was here to overload his senses again and Merlin had no idea how to handle it._ _

__Arthur cleared his throat and Merlin felt his heart sink, suddenly sure he wanted ot hear nothing further. "Arthur, I'm tired," he said, a plea for leniency._ _

__"Yeah," Arthur said. "But just listen a moment, all right?" And he went on before Merlin could stop him. "This whole time, I've known that there was something about you, yeah? I could just never put my finger on it. And now I have, and the thing is, I'm in love with you."_ _

__Merlin blinked in shock. "You what?"_ _

__Arthur's eyes burned into his. "I know I've been – look, I've been a coward, all right? A clotpole, if you want. I was scared. But I love you."_ _

__Merlin swallowed hard: it was too much, too big. "I don't… Arthur, you can't just show up like this and say… Arthur, I'm tired and I'm going home."_ _

____

***

"No!" Arthur insisted when Merlin tried to walk past him. "No, please, listen. I've only ever been in love once before and it ended badly and so when I started realising I was falling for you I was terrified. I didn't know how to admit that I think about you all the time, that I care about you more than anyone. But I do, I love you, and I think you love me, too."

"You think I love you," Merlin repeated.

"Yeah," Arthur said. "Yeah, I think you do and that's why you were so hurt after we… And I was a shit, I know I was, but I was so scared. And now I've lived without you and that scares me worse. Please, Merlin, please don't tell me I've blown my only chance because I love you and I want to be with you."

Merlin's face seemed to have shut down; Arthur couldn't read a single expression. Seconds snailed by while Merlin looked at him blankly and Arthur stood there, barely able to breathe, hoping, hoping.

"Hell," Merlin said at last. "That's just like you, Arthur, you know that." He slammed his hand into Arthur's shoulder, not quite a slap but close. "You dick me around and then you made these grand gestures and I can't keep hating you. And I really hate you, sometimes Arthur," Merlin said, but his eyes were wide and honest and his colour was returning, and Arthur could hear what he wasn't saying. "I really hate you," he said again, but he didn't resist when Arthur reached out to place a hand on the nape of his neck and pulled him forward into a kiss.

"I can change," Arthur pulled back long enough to promise.

"I don't want you to change," Merlin gasped. "I want you to always be you."

"Ah," Arthur said. "Thing is Merlin, I think you already changed me."

And then there weren't any words for a while.


End file.
